


Bohemia

by jessewrites, orphan_account



Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: 1920s, Alternate Universe - 1920s, Alternate Universe - Noir, Crimes & Criminals, F/F, F/M, Greenwich Village, M/M, Multi, New York City, Organized Crime, Other, Recreational Drug Use, Roaring Twenties, noir
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-28
Updated: 2015-03-23
Packaged: 2018-02-19 01:40:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2369726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jessewrites/pseuds/jessewrites, https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Bohemianism is the practice of an unconventional lifestyle, often in the company of like-minded people, with few permanent ties, involving musical, artistic, or literary pursuits. In this context, Bohemians may be wanderers, adventurers, or vagabonds."</p><p>The clones are all living in Greenwich Village during the roaring 20s. Everybody's queer and a criminal (even the cop).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

 

July 19, 1913- Elizabeth Childs reported missing from her home in the Windemere Building of New York's Hell's Kitchen District. Daughter of Cate and Robert Childs was born April 1, 1898. Fifteen years of age Girl of English descent with brown hair, hazel eyes, standing at 5 feet tall.

-

Eli Childs, formerly known as Beth Childs, sits in his (her) home for the last time, fingers shaking around her (his) father's scissors. Brown-black hair is floating to the tiled floor among the roaches. He (she) breathes heavily and puts the scissors down to button up the shirt stolen from one of many brothers. The whole family is at mass; Beth (Eli) begged off; stomachache, she (he) said.

He leaves the front door open, makes it look like a criminal took her. 

Elizabeth Childs is dead.

-

NEW YORK, Feb. 23- Well-known Broadway actress Alison Hendrix is in the hospital following a plunge from the stage during a Thursday performance of Lady, Be Good. It is thought that this fall is a result of heavy drinking before the show. Hendrix is rumored to be drinking heavily often before shows, and it was “only a matter of time” before something happened, according to Donald Smith, Hendrix’s stage manager. It is reported that Hendrix has injured her left arm, and likely will not return to the stage any time soon.

-

Alison Hendrix is trying to focus on her line, on hitting the next high C, but it’s rather difficult when the entire stage is a bit fuzzy, and her tongue feels strange in her mouth. On second thought, maybe that was a little too much vodka backstage, but on third thought, she doesn’t really care.  
  
She’s not thinking about the song. She’s singing, sure, but she’s not sure she sounds any good. She’s thinking about the next scene. About Aynsley Norris in a quite low-cut dress.  
  
To put it simply, she’s thinking about a girl.

-

WATCH OUT, NEW YORK-Increase of crime reported in Greenwich and surrounding areas. Vandalism, Assault, and Robbery have been accomplished by a woman in all black, wielding a nightstick. The mysterious woman is reported to have "considerable strength" and has overpowered men twice her size. On several occasions she is helped by a slight man in similar attire, carrying a gun. Citizens are encouraged to stay in their homes after dark.

-

Sarah Manning was pinned up against a wall, trading smoky breaths with an almost stranger.

"It's worth half that."

"Vic, you fuckin' idiot. It's worth whatever the hell I tell you it is. I don't cheat."

"Yeah, and I shouldn't be in the jug right now. Don't try and grift me, Sarah."

She pushed off the wall and arched into him, bindle tucked in her fist. "I'm on the level. Take it and fade. Fuzz'll be here soon."

He went in for a last kiss and backed up from her, fished the bills from his pants. "Good?"

"Good. Now go." She pushed the dope in his hands and took the money, watched as he left. He wouldn't realize for another block she'd sold him sugar.


	2. Chapter 2

The light filtering between the buildings is dusty and grey, weak in the early morning. It smells like cigarettes and piss. Eli Childs hops from foot to foot, cap in hand, as he waits for the factory to open. They're always hiring here he heard at home (not his home anymore, Beth's home, not his home anymore), father going off at five in the morning to walk to the nicer factories, the ones where the children don't have sunken cheeks and the girls aren't hollowed out.

Eli can't take that chance. He needs a job and he needs one fast, one that means he wont have to stay in the stoops of closed up shops or alleyways that smell even worse than this. The air in New York City reeks of crime and ozone and booze, and he can't take that chance. 

(Someday he will be in a flat that smells like plants and ozone and booze and crime will walk through the door every night- every morning, by then- and he will kiss her hard on the mouth and say welcome home, dear)

The foreman sizes him up, doesn't see the breasts under the men's shirt or doesn't notice. 

"Short. But you'll do. Tony is gonna show ya the machine. Annoying piece a shit, but yer stuck with him."

Tony is the same size as Eli, with long hair for a boy that curls around his ears and sticks out from the back of his cap.

"I can see your tits."

"Excuse me?"

"Wear more shirts or somethin. Nobody here says anythin but you'll catch shit from time to time. Tony Sawicki."

"Eli Childs."

And suddenly Eli was a member of a two-person pack, a tamed-down scrappy gang that was two boys that used to be girls. Or one boy that used to be a girl and a girl dressing up like one. Or something in between. The best thing about the pack was that nobody cared because nobody consisted of everybody that wasn't Tony and Eli. Tony let Eli board with him for a sliver of his pay and because his roommate worked the nightshift nobody was ever the wiser.  They took freezing cold showers and whooped at girls and whooped at boys sometimes but much quieter because nobody was still somebody. They kissed a few times and it was messy and not quite right so they stopped trying that and stuck to lying side by side on a thin sharp mattress that hurt like a bitch and sounded like one when you jumped on it according to Tony. They laughed and they dreamed and they made a small good world smack dab in the middle of a large bad one.


	3. Chapter 3

Alison Hendrix has never missed a show in her life, but here she is. She’s lying in the hospital with a hangover and a broken arm. (Technically, the word they used is fractured, but it still stops her from performing, so what’s the difference?)  
  
They told her she’d be in the hospital for at least a week, and that her arm wouldn’t be completely healed for six, and she almost fainted. Her role as Susie Trevor has been given to her understudy indefinitely (fu- Sarah Stubbs, of all people) and she feels like the world is about to end.   
  
At least they give her alcohol.

 

It’s officially classified as a painkiller, and it definitely works. Alison hasn’t had a legal buzz in months, and they’ve only given her enough to barely make her chest warm, but still. She just hopes she isn’t so grateful that she starts spouting about having to hide the liquor in her dressing room.

She’s only tipsy for about an hour and a half, which is shorter than she’d like – but hey, at least there won’t be a hangover.

Alison wants (needs) to be back on the stage. She wants (needs) to at least be out of this hospital. She can’t live like this – cooped up in bed, unable to do pretty much anything. She wonders if it’s been long enough to ask for more, ahem, painkillers. She still has no idea what she’s going to do.

If the nurse would just bring her some wine everything would be better. She just needs a little, that’s all. She just needs to keep drinking for a little while, and then she’ll have an idea.

(She’s doing everything she can not to think about the obvious. Not to think about Aynsley Norris.

Because it’s not like she’s attracted to her or anything. She isn’t one of those…  _sexual inverts_. No, definitely not. It’s normal to think your best friend is beautiful, right? There’s nothing wrong with her. She’s just thinking too much.)

Alison sighs and settles back into the too-stiff sheets. Maybe she can get some sleep.

________

Sarah Manning has a reputation. No one has seen her face, and no one knows her by name, but they know who she is. She’s heard the rumors- thirteen murders, at least five different mob connections, breaking into the mayor’s house. Most of it isn’t true, but most of it isn’t what makes people afraid of you.

Most of it doesn’t get you six good deals a month, and most of it doesn’t get you rich. She has power here, she and Felix, and it’s a good feeling. Where they came from, nobody cared about them. They might know Sarah’s name, might know to go to them if they need a good deal on dope. But they didn’t care.

New York is different. New York is sketchy warehouses and back alleys and threats. It’s more of a home than your family ever was.

New York is fun.

So Sarah sells what she can and smokes what she doesn’t, and she lives in a loft with Felix and things are good. Until they meet Tony Sawicki.

He and Felix met in some sort of club in the darker part of town and instantly hit it off. His hair is longer than Sarah thinks it should be and he seems a bit shady (even to Sarah), but she doesn’t turn him away. He has connections, Tony Sawicki, and he know people who pay good money for an ounce or a bottle or a good time. And he’s got a friend, some kid named Eli.

Eli stands hunched over like he’s got something to hide. He rarely talks around Sarah and Felix, and when he does, it’s mostly limited to grunts or shrugs or one-word replies. Still, Sarah comes to sort of like him. (He’s not unattractive, either, but Sarah insists that it has nothing to do with it.)

They begin to go together, Felix and Tony and Sarah and Eli. Felix and Tony fool around and it gets them in good with the factory guys and Felix says he’s not in love. It’s probably true; the same way Sarah isn’t in love with Eli so much as his mystery. Where did he come from? Why won’t he tell Sarah his last name or anything about his past? Does it really matter? They haven’t moved further than kissing; Sarah got stopped when she tried and that look in Eli’s eyes hadn’t said it was up for discussion. But he twines himself around her like a blanket and she’ll stay awake longer than him, wondering what they’ve gotten themselves into.

In the end, she’s probably just happiest not to wake up alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys! sorry for the long wait between updates, but we should be back on track now, more or less.
> 
> as always, comments/kudos are greatly appreciated :)

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys! Spencer and I are working on Yet Another thing, which should be longer than some of our previous stuff. We're taking the clones into a setting that's a lot less friendly and working with the idea of queer identity in the 1920s- in an area more accepting than most, but it'll take getting used to. More of the characters are on their way soon, but these guys will be the core three, essentially. Hope you enjoyed it!


End file.
